


Mudblood Queen - A Queen will always turn pain into power

by TiinaR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, F/M, Good Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strong Female Characters, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:21:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiinaR/pseuds/TiinaR
Summary: I cannot believe that war is the best solution. No one won the last war and no one will win the next.  Eleanor RooseveltA story about a war that did not truly ended. A story about a girl, that was too stubborn to give up. A story about an attempt to change it all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Autors Note:  
The plotline doesn't follow the original story. Therefore characters may develop differently. After all, experience forms the character.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, the great JRK does. But it’s fun to play in her sandbox. (almost as fun as discovering the magical world of Harry Potter for the first time as a child.)

_ London Grimmauld Place, December 20. 1978 _

There was an old, opulent mansion in the heart of London. But for decades none of the people around seemed to notice this impressive building. Hidden from the world around, it came across to be remained in the last century. With high, narrow windows, the gothic exterior, with it’s intricately carved entrance of snakes, appeared as imposing and ancient as the most noble family that lived there.

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black was as formidable and eccentric as their main residence. The Black Family was infamous for their intellect, power and temper. Behind closed doors you could hear others even call them batshit crazy. Those, who weren’t as deranged were no part of the family anymore. Whether it was by Burned off the family tree, disinherited or killed by their loving family members. But at the moment, their home was peaceful and quiet. Especially since they were still asleep. The first stirring came at the crack of dawn. A small creature with big batlike floppy ears, grey skin and many wrinkles fought its way out of its cabinet in the basement kitchen. Kreacher, their house elf had work to do, he needed to start the breakfast for its masters, and mistress. 

He was proud to work for them up to the day he would be too old to work and he looked forward to the day when his head would hang in the foyer, where all heads of his ancestors were stored by the mistress of the house. It was truly an honour to work until death for such a noble family. He would never willingly betray them. Disobedience would shame not only him, but his beloved mistress and young master.

But today, everything would change. Not exclusively for Kreacher, but for all magical kind. Not that they knew about it just yet. Kreacher felt something strange in the bond between him and his masters. It wasn’t as strong and unyieling as it was normally. The ambient magic, which surrounded him was heavy, as if something big would disturb the normally calm surface of magic. It was foreboding and almost violent, panicked full of sorrow and pain. But Kreacher did not dwell on feelings, he had work to do. So went the time by, while the loyal elf took care of all household tasks. The breakfast was prepared, the kitchen was cleaned, and now the sound of activity filtered through the dark and narrow halls of Black Manor. 

The first to rise was the heir Black. He took his time to awake properly and groom himself like it was expected for his noble breeding. The heir of Walburga and Orion Black was their youngest son Regulus Arcturus, who had just returned home a few days prior due to today's upcoming celebrations of Yule, the winter solstice. 

It was the second yule celebration since he became heir, and it was his duty to stand by his family, while they would honour the old traditions _ . He lost himself in his thoughts. _ Prior to that, his elder brother Sirius was the heir. He never had been interested in anything that would have been befitting to his station as a member of an ancient and noble Bloodline. No, he even fought actively against it. It has been an open fought war between his mother and brother for years.

Sirius disgraced the family at the tender age of 11, by being sorted into the Gryffindor House, consorting with blood traitors, half breeds and mudbloods. Openly! All those, who in his family's eyes,were beneath them and a threat to their society by diluting the magical blood and power as well as for not carrying on their traditions. 

He had betrayed his family, his blood. He ran away, and took Regulus chance to live as free as possible with him that night. So it was not surprising, that his parents were set off by only the mention his name. Regulus hated Sirius. Now he was the heir, now _he_ had to uphold the family honour, now _he_ had to serve a maniac, who tortured others for the fun of it. 

There was no knock on the door. No - Walburga swept inside his room, without being asked for or being allowed. It was just not her style to ask for permission for anything. She stood in front of him making him feel small, inadequate, and lacking, as always. The room cooled significantly down, as if her frozen heart could cool the whole world. Her gaze wandered from top to bottom, searching for anything missing. Her eyes were just as cold as her heart and Regulus knew, she searched for any sign, that he would be as much as a disappointment as his older brother.

Naturally, she found him lacking. And so she disturbed the peace of the morning and began her monologue. How  _ proud _ she was of him, to behold the family honour by serving the Dark Lord. In moments like this, Regulus was quite pleased that he had mastered occlumency on such a level, that even Severus, the Dark Lord, his  _ mother _ could not break into his mind. Without that,  _ she _ already would have cursed him. Like she had done to Sirius, since he was a child. Regulus caught his thoughts wandering and began to listen to her clamouring. Oh, her Dark Lord, the true power of blood purity, and eliminating everything threatening the magical world. Pure Bloods had to show those scum their place. First, by providing a visual sign of their worth. If the sons and daughters of the sacred 28 would not be able to even dress themselves properly, everything else would fail as well. She turned up her nose at the sight his robes. Regulus raised a brow. They were traditional and ridiculously expensive. He had bought them himself only days before from Twilfit and Tattings. They were even quite a sight -black silk with  tasteful emerald, ivory, and blood-red embroidery- the colours of Yule.

Ah... now he understood. She had not selected them, and he had the gall to choose something red. Sirius always wore red, like Gryffindor. Just a few stitches could set her off so easily... Regulus wanted to shake his head, while she berated his loyal house elf Kreacher for allowing these “disgusting rags” into the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.

Regulus decided to stop her now, before he had to endure her foul mood all day. He excused himself for the faux pas and signaled her to leave the room, so he could change into her choosing, a set of black and silver dress robes.

And while she was gone, Regulus changed out of his clothing and into her choice. One had to choose their battles wisely. And so the truth festered in his heart. He would never be good enough for  _ her  _ or for his father. The second choice, never the first, and even that because there was no other to be picked.

As he put on his new shirt, he thought back to Sirius.  But he would never speak about it, never speak about him, even if he missed his brother so much. Sirius had sheltered him as much as an older brother could have done, to the point that Sirius had almost broken himself. 

And now, the boy without a choice started his day. Suddenly, the magic shifted around him. It smelled like change, tasted like revolution, and brought with it some needed hope. Regulus did not know, if it would get better. But he knew, to get better, it had to change. 

The Blacks were not the only magicals, who felt the shift in magic. Today, everything would change for magical Britain, even if most of them would never know about it.


	2. 1.1.  Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A magical storm is building from the 20. december ongoing, with its peak on dawn 21. december.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.1. Distress
> 
> Goblins strengthen their building to stand the force of magic.

** _The whole thing is quite hopeless, so it's no good worrying about tomorrow. It probably won't come. _ ** _ J R R Tolkien, The Return of the King _

_ London Gringotts, December, 20. 1978 _

There was a restlessness in the halls of Gringotts that no Goblin could remember in their life. They were up for hours, much earlier than their human counterparts. That was normal, but tonight many of them did not find a moment of rest. With midnight came wave after wave of volatile magic. And the master carvers grew concerned. They infused all the walls, tunnels and caves with massively strengthening magic.

Gringotts was the oldest building in London, and withstood time quite easily. Above ground Gringotts was known as THE wizarding Bank of Great Britain. Underneath, it was the home of the whole goblin nation - sturdy and unyielding like the warrior race itself. 

But the ambient magic was building up like no other storm before. Furious waves broke into the walls of the ritual chamber in the center of their ancient stone and marble building. The goblin nation’s caves were in danger through the emerging onslaught. All curse breakers were called in to set up extra wards. Because of the urgent need, those employed humans saw the main buildings in all beauty for the first time in centuries. Normally humans only saw the white, marble banking halls. Even the most wealthy of customers were only allowed through the labyrinthian offices below, but no one had ever seen the sacred halls of the goblin nation, where they kept all their secrets and old lore. Even the human employees of Gringotts had never been in these parts. The sanctuaries were hidden to protect the females, young, and the elders.

But now, they needed as much protection as possible. Dozens of curse breakers ran through the halls. Their chanting songs permeated the halls with their echos. White light fell onto the rough carved-out stones enclosing the main area. Their eyes widened, full of wonder for the masterpieces of architecture and art. Simultaneously, their faces filled with concern.

As curse breakers, they were taught a lot about themselves as well as their magic. Most of them understood magic as sentient and could see ley lines, auras, and the traces magic left in buildings and artifacts. The onslaught of these furious waves did not bode well for them. They were afraid not only for their employer but also for their families. If this storm was not treated properly, it would destroy more than just Gringotts or Diagon Alley. Only their Gringotts training and professionalism forced them to compartmentalize this fear. By conquering their fears, they spoke their the chants without pause or hesitation. One could think them callous to put their work before their families, but human employees were also strictly bound to their contracts. One was not able to speak about any goblin business without explicit permission to do so. Breaking this clause would lead to an instant death, well, if one was lucky, that is. Goblins were famous for being vicious.

Deep in the halls of the Bank still sat one Goblin. His motionless position amongst the chaos and polished battle armor seemed out of place behind an impressively polished banker’s desk. This subdued male was Ragnok, the Banking director of Gringotts and the chief of the Goblin nation. All morning he had held meetings to dispute his responsibilities to the elder council and put the final touches to the evacuation plan. They would lead their nation to survival, he was sure of it. 

But what now?

Ragnok and the elders had decided not to warn the wizarding kind. Some would say, he did not care for the safety of his customers, but that was only part of his reasoning. His main concern was the survival and safety of the goblin nation and Lady Magic herself. But there were other aspects to consider. To inform the wizards would end in hysterics. The wizarding community was at war for several years now. No open fight, mind you, but regularly attacks on everyone who opposed their hardcore traditionalists. Muggleborns and half bloods, half breeds and creatures - all of them were beneath the oppressor and had to willingly take their place at the bottom of the society. Or die while fighting for equal rights. The ministry of magic could not act, or would not want to act. Too many of these proud pure blood elitists had been the pillar of society in the last centuries. They were the members of the wizengamot and financiers of the ministry.

For another, goblins were not respected. Wizards and witches regarded themselves as "superiors" forcing all other magical beings to submit to their often foolish and discriminating laws. Ironically, they refused goblins to use wands. Not that Goblins would need them.To force laws upon other races without knowing about their characteristics and needs was indeed a foolish thing, but wizards could easily even top that. They entrusted those, who they discriminated, with almost all financial resources of Britain. Foolish wizards indeed.

Another reason was rather obvious. Struggle in Gringotts would be bad for their business. Even without an ounce of logic, which wizard would be mad enough to store their gold in a bank ready to collapse?

So he was steadfast in his opinion and would stand his ground. That is, should he still be alive, when delegates of the Ministry of Magic acknowledged the magic around them and visit the ancient race to took charge to protect the status quo for their own kind.

But what now? 

For hours he felt the pull to their ancient ritual chamber. He had resisted because the safety of his people are more important than his urges, even if he had learned before to listen to his gut. Now, everything was settled, and Ragnok stilled again to give a silent and heartfelt farewell to his loyal warriors and crafters, bankers, healers and academics. His place was inside the ritual chamber, awaiting the inevitable, the grand peak of the ongoing storm. And so, he opened the heavy metal doors, gave his warriors the order to seal him inside until he gave the signal to reopen the room and sealed himself inside.

There he stood before a myriad of circles and waited for hours for his fate to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.2. Ragnoks musings  
Ragnok thinks about the implications of this storm and the significance of Yule.  
(update on following friday)
> 
> 1.3. Calmness in the raging storm  
Ragnok meets the most trusted friends and confidants of her. The soon-to-be connected families arrive and struggle to stay civil while waiting for the storms peak.  
(update on following saturday)
> 
> AN:  
Most chapters will be devided in three or more parts, which I will upload seperately.
> 
> I plan to move across the country in two weeks, so I decided to post at least the full first chapter of my story before I need to start packing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Feel free to comment about it. English isn't my mother tongue, so I'm always happy for constructive critique.


	3. 1.2. Ragnoks Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ragnok thinks about the implications of this storm and the significance of Yule.

_**It is not light that we need, but fire; it is not the gentle shower, but thunder. We need the storm, the whirlwind, and the earthquake.** Frederick Douglass _

_London Gringotts, December, 21. 1978 _

He only had lit a few of the torches by hand, but the old chamber was fully illuminated. It was a circular room, the walls carved out of the surrounding stone. Like an old amphitheater, it was equipped with three rows of steps which led slowly down to the main part of the ritual chamber. There was the permanent ritual circle of myrddin carved into the stone for more than 1000 years.

It was told then, this circle would bear the fate of the goblin nation. So the director took his place in the first row and observed. It was hard, not to follow his instincts, but he wasn’t the leader of the warrior race for nothing. The furious waves crashed into the outer circle - the walls of the chamber - magic became visible and golden strands wove around the center into a little whirlwind , which again fed through its upper end into the outer ring. It was beautiful and frightening at the same time. The Goblin was almost sad to be the only witness.

And while the wild magic swirled around him, he thought about the date. Today was the winter soliste, the traditional start of yule - the ancient festival of resurrection. For the next 12 days, followers of the old rites would celebrate the end of the year and the return of the sun, the completion of the another yearly cycle of life, death and rebirth. Was it coincidence, that this raging storm would befall them exactly on that day?

Was it death or truly rebirth? Both was a possibility. Magic and gods probably had enough reason to erase their races. How many of them still followed the Olde Rites? How many of them saw Magic truly as the Gift it was, and honoured it daily? The raging war was the best example of it. Wizards and witches had forgotten, that magic was a gift to be honoured, not demanded or taken for grated. Magic was around and in every being, it surrounded all of them, pulsed it the earth, the stones, in all plants and gave life to every form of life on this planet. Not everyone could wield t, no. But it was part of everything. Life is precious, and humans had forgotten to cherish life.

Goblins never had forgotten, the elders made sure of it. And while they did not follow the old human customs, they knew about them and respected their place in culture. This night, the first night of yule was also known as slaughter night, where animals would be ritually slain to use their blood in order to appease the gods, and their meat was consumed by all celebrating people. Symbiosis.

Fire was important as well, he remembered. Something about the ashes of a log, burned on that day, would ward off evil for the whole following lifecircle of the sun. This year, there would be no yule celebrations in their sacred halls. Most of the Goblin Nation should be evacuated, as of yet. And so, Ragnok conjured the the ancient oak, to light the yule log. He truly hoped, that this placate Lady Magic. Yule was also the time of the Wild Hunt around the world, where the dead and evil would leave the world like the old year itself. Maybe this storm would seek and sweep up all those, who did not deserve to start the new circle.

And so the chief of the Goblin nation sat between oak fumes and raging magic and pondered about the outcome of this day. Maybe this Tempest was much needed.

The storm built for hours until he could not make out one single strand of magic at all. The golden magic had become a solid but still see through wall of golden light. It still raged like a hurricane in its center, but now there was a dome around him. It was like the essence of life and magic, what lit myrddins circle and powered all runes around it. Lively but calming, playful and so beautiful. It was enchanting.

Before he could think about more implications, he heard the telltale sound of apparation inside his dome of doom.


	4. 1.3. The call of family magics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calmness in the raging storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The soon-to-be connected families arrive and struggle to stay civil while waiting for the storms peak.

_**Invisible threads are the strongest ties.** Friedrich Nietzsche _

_London Gringotts, December, 21. 1978 _

And suddenly, the director was not alone anymore. But that should not be possible. Gringotts was warded against unapproved portkeys and any apparation. Furthermore he had ordered his curse breaker to set extra wards around the ritual chamber. No one should have been able to follow him into this sacred room.

Ragnok took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked upon them. Three House elves were next to him, two male, one female. They seemed to be bewildered for a moment, but then they smiled such a serene smile, as if they knew what was to happen.

Kreacher was in the middle of preparing the tea for his mistress, when his magic whisked him away. The new bond was so strong and demanding, it cried out for his help, and he had to follow, even if he did not know, who screamed for his aid. But as soon as he entered the ritual circle he identified it. It was new and familiar at the same time. It enclosed his own core like a loving embrace. He absorbed it with a smile, and soon a plethora of memories hit him. It were his memories; memories he had not made yet. Memories that led to her. Memories that led to the death of so many, of his family and to his own end.

He was happy but also angry and frightened, that she found a way to come for them. He knew, she would not be stopped to save those she truly loved. But that she had gone the last step meant, she had suffered too much. He remembered, she had done it before, in a smaller scale, bending and breaking men made rules and laws, pushing the laws of magic to extreme to help someone in need.

He could not wait to welcome her, to take care of her again. He noticed Dobby and Winky next to him. Of course they had felt the same. A familiar bond as strong as theirs was powerful and She had vowed to be part of their family through eternity. It would not have broken under any circumstances.

Ragnok did not want to startle them, so he waited for trio to address him. The oldest house elf bowed deeply and greeted him with a closed smile. ‘Hello Director. My Name is Kreacher, and these are Dobby and Winky. We need to wait for others. But soon everything shall be explained.’

The director was surprised, house elves normally could not speak english that well. Being seen as creatures only to serve, their masters did not take time to teach them to articulate properly. They still wore rags, so he was sure, that they were under the slave bond. To still force beings under a slave bond was repulsive at best. He had no time to dwell on his thoughts. More ‘pops’ rung through the chamber. Wizards and witches were now trapped in the golden dome as well. They were obviously frightened and enraged. Ragnok shouldn't have thought, that there should be more observer. Kreacher had a pleading look that suggested that the goblin chief needed speak to them. Wizards and witches would never listen to an old house elf, well save for one. She always listened, she always wanted to learn from their perspective. Well, not always, but for the last years.

So Ragnok called for order. He counted _forty two_ magical humans in total. Men, women and even a few children.

There were the most ancient and noble house of Black with all their members, even those, who were cast out - by wizarding standard, not by magic itself - in the last 50 years. Arcturus Black and his wife Melania Back née McMillan, Cassiopeia Black, Dorea Potter née Black, Pollux Black and his wife, Cygnus and Druella Black and their 3 daughters Bellatrix LeStrange, Andromeda Tonks and Narcissa Malfoy. Walburga Black and her Husband Lord Orion Black, as well as both of her sons, Sirius and Regulus. And next to them, long lost Marius Black with, what Ragnok assumed to be his wife, son and daughter in law.

On their right stood proudly the ancient and noble House of Potter with Charlus Potter and his son, James. With them he found the young werewolf Remus Lupin and the muggleborn Lily Evans. Also to be found there were Edward Tonks and his daughter Nymphadora.

Following was the Noble house of Longbottom, with Lord Martin and Augusta, and their son Frank as well as his wife Alice.

The next wizard wore robes, which almost distracted Ragnok from the surrounding golden ward. Xenophilius Lovegood came with his wife Pandora and her cousin Evangeline Rosier. They also had brought the House of Weasley with Arthur, Molly and their 3 sons, William, Charles and Percival.

Left to the House of Black stood the Noble House of Malfoy with Abraxas and his son Lucius as well as Thoros Nott.

The last House was surprising as well with Perseus Parkinson and his wife Peony. While all others could be placed in the light or dark in the war, the House of Parkinson remained neutral, a tradition for more than a century.

As expected the humans accused each other of foul play instead of asking the leader of the goblin nation or the house elves. The cast out members of the house of Black did not lose a minute to leave for their right places. Nobody recognized Marius, so he moved his family to a more healthy place without attracting extra attention.

Ragnok had enough. He let his magic flow through his body to demand silence before blood was shed. Nobody could know how that would react to the magical storm around them. Now their side was set on him. With a death stare, he greeted them with the same courtesy they had given him. So - none.

‘Order wizards and witches! Do you know, how you came to be here? It should not be possible to arrive for you in the heart of Gringotts. And considering, that I did not call for you, the question stands. Why are you here? How did you break through dozen of wards?’

With narrowed eyes, Arcturus was the first to answer. What he did not know was, that there was a truth compelling ward around the ancient chamber, imbued within the walls. So he replied ‘I assume, that we all were called by our familiar magic. We can’t evade their call, even if we were officially cast out. Only death breaks the bond between his own blood. For how long is this going on here? It seems that we all are here captivated.’ He looked away and spoke to all other magical humans ‘ No magic, no blood shet. It could kill us all instantly.’

Unnerved with the truth compelling, he narrowed his eyes further. The other heads nodded and their eyes widened in understanding. This situation put all of them in mortal peril. And all family members were here, so it would make every House extinct if not treated with utmost care.

The director tried to rub the stress off his face. That was not good. He decided to extend an olive branch.

‘Since midnight a magical storm is brewing inside our bank. Furious waves crashed through our building, so we were forced to evacuate our sacred halls in order to survive as goblin race, should this end in a great tragedy. Like you, I was obliged to follow my fated path into our ancient chamber which contains myrddins ritual circle. There was a whirlwind in the center, almost as strong as a proper hurricane with visible golden strands of magic. Those wove the dome you are now seeing. I’m not sure, what will happen. But the house elves, which arrived shortly before you, led me to believe, they understand our situation quite well. The oldest explained, that I had to wait for others to arrive, I assume he meant you.’

‘Kreacher ?!’ two voices called. Sirius and Regulus recognized him instantly. While Regulus loved the old elf, Sirius despised him for aiding his mother in making his childhood a nightmare.

‘I shall behead you the moment you brought us back home!’ screeched Walburga. Again, Arcturus had to intervene. His niece and daughter-in-law was truly psychotic. ‘Mind your place and stop your shrill interruption. Or I will make you.’ Smirking, Sirius acknowledged his grandfather. ‘Kreacher, tell us, what you know. I assume, there is no way out for us, just yet.’ The assembled people just stared at the almost ancient elf and waited for his response. They noted there were two others with him. And the glance Abraxas through at his house elf Dobby promised a lot of pain.

Kreacher stood idle in the inner circle and his view wandered over the witches and wizards. He gave Arcturus his serene smile and replied ‘She is near. Time is almost broken. You don’t have to wait for long. You need to let us take care of her. I can’t explain, what exactly led to this gathering. But I know that you need her. She is our salvation. She is the salvation of Magic.’

That floored all of them. Lily was the first to recover. With a calculating look she asked Kreacher, if he would need them to assist. The head of House Potter was proud - Lily would be a fine wife for his son. Normally wizards did not acknowledged elves. Most purebloods would either die than aiding them in their work. But Charlus never had a problem with them and was raised to recognized the wonder of life and magic in every being. He nodded his head and smiled at her.

‘I do not know, in what condition she will arrive here. I know, she would not break Time in such a way, if she could have chosen another solution for whatever predicament she found herself into - again.’ Charlus saw his brother-in-law widened his eyes comically. And he had to force himself not to laugh. Elves never spoke poorly about wizards and witches, even if they sould, so it was a tad funny to hear a clear annoyance out of Kreacher’s voice. And Arcturus had catched it as well.

‘Dobby, Winky and I are familiar with her magic. She is bound to us through eternity, so we will be able to heal all magical wounds which were inflicted on her. You all should have felt it. She was furious, but it wavered and pain crashed into us. So I believe she had to fight for her life again. Miss Andromeda, Mister Marius would you aid us, if the need arises?

Faces all around became ashen with Kreachers explanation. Andromeda settled her daughter in her husband's arms and entered myrddins circle. Marius did not hesitate for a moment, so he found himself in the circle as well. ‘What are you speaking about? How could you be bound to another family? Who is she?’

But instead of Kreacher, Marius answered. ‘I’ve never felt magic this strong. I do think, she belongs to me. I feel her pain and sorrow, and her rage. She is magnificent. Am I right, Kreacher?’ Arcturus recognized that voice.Sure, it had aged, but the tone, and the way the words rolled of his tongue, he would always recognize. He had not heard it for a few decades, but one never forgets his brother. Dorea and Cassiopeia had tears in their eyes.

‘Marius, is it you?’ What are you doing here? This storm could kill you more easily than us. What do you mean with ‘She is yours?’’ Dorea was beside herself. Her long lost little brother. She had missed him so much, and after the marriage to Charlus, she had searched for him for years. She had never found him and now, now he was standing almost beside her.

Pandora did not want to break up their family reunion, but she had to point out “ Isn't it obvious? She is breaking the time stream. So she is his granddaughter or even great granddaughter. She must be truly powerful. The last one to break it was Merlin himself in order to protect Avalon.’

Grasps run through the whole chamber.

‘She belongs to all of us. All of you are her family. She carries all your magic within her core. By blood, she may be a Black, but I got to know her unter another name or a exaggerated family tree. She is a kind soul -’Dobby intervened ‘but also so beautifully vindictive’ Winky shot him an annoyed stare ‘ who gives her voice to those who were not heard by themselves. She took us in and made up a family for us to take care of. She and her siblings were the last light of this world. If she truly had decided to go back in time, she has a valid reason.’ Dobby had to intervene again ‘Like the time, she used her time turner to steal the hippogryph and smuggle Sirius away from these blasted dementors and their soul sucking. Hermione does as Hermione does.’

Sirius and James had already opened their mouths, but before anyone could speak again, there was a cracking.

Kreacher moved faster than everyone thought possible and put the kids to sleep into a safety bubble behind the gathered adults. It would not be good, to leave the young unprotected. Otherwise, she would be furious.

Louder this time and accompanied by a lightning, the center became instabile again. Tendrils of magic swirled around in gold, blood red and white. It concentrated for a few seconds before it bust and a black hole appeared.

And then she fell down.

Bloody and beaten, but with with a beating heart and magic dancing across her skin.


	5. 2.1 not so bright future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Situation of magical Britain from 1998 to 1999

** _I cannot believe that war is the best solution. No one won the last war and no one will win the next. _ ** _ Eleanor Roosevelt  _

_ December 1999, July 1998 - October 1998 _

She crept through the cold, deserted streets of London, hoping not to be seen by the roving soldiers. It was getting harder and harder every day to stay out of their way and not look suspicious if being seen.

The last few months, no - years, had left their mark. She had never truly recovered from the camping trip from hell. Too many missed meals and half-healed wounds made it more and more difficult. There was no time to mourn and heal after the final battle of Hogwarts. 

The outlook of the future was grim. All in all, after the final battle were only around 20.000 magicals left in Britain. Before the war with Grindelwald the almost had 100.000. Britain had lost 90 percent of their muggleborn inhabitants in both blood wars. And those who survived had fled the country, or still fought for their life in Azkaban, awaiting their trial or check out papers.

The society was broken but so much more demanding than she had expected. Just days after their victory, no one left them in peace. They only were children. The ministry tried to use them as puppets with their numerous balls and interviews and they even had the gall to tell them, they would owe them that at least. 

But when it was truly important, they had no say. Informations about the current state were held back, again. Muggleborns were still in Azkaban, because it would take time and every case had to be checked accurately. They told her, as a muggleborn, she could not believe to understand the mechanics of the ministry of magic. She should have understood then. But she was too broken to see the signs. Or maybe she just was used to their behavior and to resigned to fight again.

And now, now everything was lost. The so called peace only had lasted a few weeks. Death Eaters were allowed to buy their way out like the last time. They were angry and this time they did not hold back. And so it started again. 

But this time, there were no adults they could trust. Minerva was one of the first to fall. Cowardly cursed in the back on the grounds of Hogwarts, while she tried to rebuilt their home. Kingley, the interim Minister and part of the Order for years, began to sing another time quite fast afterwards. Self preservation, he told her. That bastard. Arthur and Bill died in the ministry in an accident. More likely cursed in the back again. 

Fleur went missing days later. Shortly before Bill had died she had told them, she was pregnant. Full of grief she decided to move back to her family, now that Bill was gone. But it never came to that. Shell Cottage was in chaos,most of the furniture was toppled over, a few torch marks from missed curses on the wall and there was blood on the floor. Fleur was missing. They never had found her.

It was the beginning of July, when Harry and her moved back to Grimmauld Place. Hermione reseted the fidelius with her as secret keeper. Harry was adamant, with his absent self preservation it was borrowed time, he now lived. 

As a precaution, they shared the secret with George, Luna and Neville, as well as Dromeda and little Teddy. Molly was lost in her grief and protected under her own wards, so she declined. Weasleys belonged to the Burrow, she said. So she would die here, if it would come to that. Ron was with Percy since his father's death, and she hadn’t seen him for almost two weeks. So she could not give him their new location. 

Luna had urged Neville to move in with her and Harry. Safe in numbers. So Neville packed his most prized belongings as well as the whole library of Longbottom hall. He harvested all plants of his greenhouses and took seeds of each species. He had set up the war wards, but they would die with him. Hopefully someone would be there to take care of it all.

His grandmother had died in the battle of Hogwarts, but she had taken five others with her. She even laid there, covered in blood and dirt but with grace and dignity, and a truly vicious smile on her face. He swore himself to die the same way, should the need for battle arise again. 

Luna had lost her father.They had tortured him, until he had bled out of his eyes, nose and ears. After the final battle she had found him in front of the their home, the Rookery. She never went back to its ruins and pushed all memories back, tried to never think of it. Like the others, she now was an orphan of war. 

And then, a few days before Harry's 18 birthday, the hell broke loose. George's Patronus, a ghostly white hyena, jumped into the drawing room and he called for help with a pained and angry voice. He was at the front steps of Grimmauld, but not alone. They had to retrieve them, because the guests did not share the secret yet.

What they found, was a bloody George with burned robes. He had a blonde witch in his arms and next to him stood no other than Draco Malfoy. They brought them in in Kreacher fell over himself to take care of their wounds. 

The remaining Weasley-twin told them, that Diagon was attacked. Aurors and figures in black robes had purged the street. George had seen the Malfoys and wanted to take them in. Nobody was bad enough to be burned to death. His shop was fire resistant thanks to his late twins spectacular wards. That was the only reason he thought, they would be safe there. Narcissa had taken a curse which was aimed at Draco or George himself. They did not knew for sure. Now honour alone demanded to take them to the safety of grimmauld. Instinctually he knew, the Burrow was not safe for them, not safe for him. Draco was an exceptional dueller, but two against more than 40 and the burning shops, it was short of a wonder, that they had arrived at the safe house.

Wouldn't have been for the Malfoys, he was sure, he would have died. Like his brother, like his father. For a short moment, he felt betrayed, taken away the chance of peaceful rest to meet his twin again. 

Harry and Hermione fell into the old rhythm of vigilance, healing and protecting like they had never left it. The brightest decided, it was time to demand Dromeda to leave the old cottage and bring herself and Teddy to safety. It was a gut feeling, she later wished, she had had days before.

She told her brother to stay there and bring everything in order. Overwhelmed, he agreed. But what she found would be more grueling than her wrenched nightmares of the last war.

The door was torn from the hinges with deep claw marks carved into the wood. She heard Andi cry out in pain and was directly brought back to her own memories of torture.

Greyback had her in his claws, Blood fell from his muzzle. But Andromeda was not dead yet, and Teddy was in mortal danger. The thought of her godson in danger yanked her back to present, and rage filled her whole body. How dare he?! He already had destroyed the life of her godson's father. He would not get to her little metamorphmagus. The old were leered at her, and promised to finish, what they had begun the last time they met. She shuddered at the thought of that almost rape and let the rage in her veins take over. She could not really remember, what happened next, but in the end she stood victoriously above greyback with his heart in her hand. Andromeda was on the brink of death, but she told her to bring Teddy from his hidden place to her. She put him in his grandmother's bloody arms and together they invoked the old rites. Teddy was now her son, by blood and magic and no one could take him from her. Hermione had sworn to put him first, to treat him as her son and to fight for his life. And so, after Andromeda stopped breathing, she collected the few personal items and transported the crying toddler and herself to his new home.

She didn't fight Draco as he took him from her, so that Harry could catalogue and heal her injuries. Nobody had spoken that night.

In the middle of August Kreacher had found Winky in the ruins of Hogwarts, Hermione had sent him to collect all books and other useful equipment, before it all was burned to ashes and forever lost. Between the rotten corpses he discovered a distraught Winky, who spoke about a witch who had taken her in. Winky had tried to contact Harry, but under the fidelius she could not have found him. Winky explained, where they could be found and went back to her witch with the little food, she had found in the partly collapsed kitchen of Hogwarts. So Kreacher informed Harry and Hermione, and together they found the grieving Pansy Parkinson and an injured and  unconscious T heodore Nott. She did not speak a word or cried, but had the broken body of her sister in her arms. Hermione had to stun her, to give Harry a chance to part these two.

Draco was grateful, that they had found more survivors. But the news, Theo and Pansy could give them, took the last remaining hope from them. The new Order, that's what the scum called themselves now, wanted the Parkinson sisters to serve and marry Percival and Ronald Weasley. The sisters were meant as a gratification, a gift to these two traitors of the light, even if Poppy was only 10 years old.

Their mother and father were murdered, they had tried to give their children a chance to run. To give them a chance to survive and not being raped on daily basis.

George’s Brothers had betrayed them all in order to protect their mother, as they worded it. They had sold out the locations of still true order members and all those dear to Harry. Ron was a Death Eater. Ron had betrayed them again. Ron wasn’t better than Pettigrew. They should never have trusted him. Hermione's hate grew as much as Harry withdrew over the following days. Hermione swore to never give anyone a chance to hurt her that way. 

Narcissa did not wake up again. She died while in coma, so she was not in any pain, a small consolation that the last Black sister did not have to endure, what Dromeda had gone through days before. They had not even the chance to bury her properly. They did not see Draco for days.

As fucked up as it was, the shit had not had hit the fan yet. 

The new Order was callous with the Statute of Secrecy. They gambled with it by not knowing enough about muggle technology. Soon Muggles had enough video tapes as proof of magic, of rapists, torturer and murderer. And so at the end of September they went to war as well. They had had enough.

The inhabitants of Grimmauld found out about it, because Hermione had taken the liberty to connect them with the SAT of their neighbours in her fifth year, to give Sirius something else to focus on than grief, whiskey and books about dark magic. 

And so she found herself in Sirius old bed again, but this time with Harry, Neville, Luna and Draco, Theo and Pansy, as well as Kreacher, Winky and the sleeping Teddy to watch the news on the telly. What they saw shocked them. Muggles could find them, because magic gave away a field of radiation. Hermione had to explain to them, what they had heard on the news. 

Afterwards, they were sure, soon all of them would be wiped out.

The others left Sirius old room and Hermione and Teddy cuddled inside his old comforter as if it could shield them from all danger. Hermione cried for all lost souls. And she cried for Sirius. She had not allowed herself to cry for him for years. Harry's grief was too strong. He needed her, so she could not lose herself in it. She had to protect Harry. But now, all fight was gone from him, and she could not stop the tears. She needed Sirius so much. There had to be a way to bring him back. She had read something about the veil, and about soulmates. She had to check. So she spent the next days in the musk and dark library. 

Luna found her early three days later. Her bright soul had dimmed, but she was convinced to glue her new makeshift family together. She saw the raw grief inside Hermione and wanted nothing more than to heal her. Only the saviours sister was able to shoulder Harry's grief as well. Neville was with the other boys and tried to console them. They always found a way out, despite all odds. She truly believed, this time would not be different. And so Luna took Teddy from Hermione and led her to the basement kitchen. She needed to eat, and the smell of bacon would bring the boys down as well.

Hermione did not speak about Sirius and the Veil. She was afraid of their reaction. Harry would hurt so much more, if she would not be able to succeed, the others would try to hold her back. It was a suicide mission. And maybe it was selfish to bring him back into this dark world. But Hermione needed him, and so she kept quiet.

Luna spoke about loss and family, and that she was grateful even in these dark times for her chosen siblings, a familiar bond never to be broken. Even Draco had tears in his eyes. It was nice to remember, they still belonged to someone. The makeshift family decided to give themselves a true family again. One which could never betray any of them. Hermione had found the ritual while searching for a way to retrieve Sirius. 

The inhabitants of grimmauld bonded only hours later. Now the elves als well as teddy and the young adults were a family, their souls and magic bound together. They would not part again, not even in their next lives.

Draco tried to apparate to France. The Malfoys had houses there. Maybe they could find new hope and a place to live peacefully there. But there were wards. Strong wards, which bounced him a few times back, before he gave up, and apparated back to their home.

Hermione tried to contact Victor Krum via an old DA Galleon, she had sent him before they had went on the hunt. He informed them, that the ICW had forbidden any magical to enter Great Britain. They had given up the ancient conclave in order to protect the other magical nations. The ICW had betrayed them as well.

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow were bombed in the middle of october. Hermione still had to wait for samhain to call Sirius back from the Grey. He was not dead or alive, but he was still there, able to think. She hoped, it had not driven him mad. But he was strong, even 12 years of Azkaban hadn't broken him.

And so she planned with Kreacher and explained to him every step, they had to take. The ancient house elf promised to bring them both back to Grimmauld, and assured her, that Sirius would not have any problem to enter the old manor. The evening before, Hermione copied all her Memories and added all signatures of her siblings to her bag. It was packed with everything. All books, all potions, food, the tent, spare wands, Nevilles seedbank, all of Teddy's things. She gave it to Winky, who promised to protect her family.

And so, Hermione drunk the last few drops of Slughorn’s felix felicis, took a new bag, packed with everything for her excursion and plopped silently into the ministry. 

They had taken off the anti-apparation wards in order to flee, should the muggle army charge at them. With Harry's cloak and her exercises from the run, she was able to move silently without being seen by anyone. The department of mysteries was abandoned

Kreacher used his time there wisely. Mistress Granger hadn't given him an order for it, but he knew, she would be proud and grateful for it. So he began collecting everything he could reach. Hermione loved books, so he took all books and reports and all shiny trinkets.

Minutes later, Hermione was ready to demand Sirius back. She heard him whisper. Other voices as well, but she could only identify his voice directly. The bond both of them shared, flared in anticipation and excitement . 

Hermione took the athame and cut her right hand while she began to chant. Her song filled the whole chamber and the the curtain began to glow white. She repeated the long string three times, and became more and more emotional and demanding with every word. Sirius belonged to them and now she was here to collect. She swore to destroy every deity, who stand in the way to her soulmate. Shortly before she was too faint, he was spit out. Unconscious, but breathing, he looked like the day he was pushed into it.

Kreacher did not wait for another moment and collected both of them. Hermione was not able to stand on her own anymore, let alone aparate both of them to their home. 

When they entered Grimmauld, they were greeted by all other occupants. They had felt her power waning and were afraid for her well being. Nothing could have prepared them for the side they made. Hermione was clutching Sirius and did not let go of him. But for the first time im month, she smiled. And then, she fainted.

Harry was besides himself. Fortunately, Draco was not. He interviewed the elf, and looked up the ritual and became ashen himself. He informed the others, that the ritual should have killed her for more than one reason. She was not allowed to do that without link to the called, by blood, magic and/ or soul. So the question was, how did Hermione succeed? 

The last Malfoy took all memories from Harry which included Hermione and Sirius, and hoped to find the missing connection. He had not to search long. The first encounter was highly emotional on more than one level. Seemingly unseen by all others, there was a spark of silver light, which encircled Sirius and Hermiones hands.  They were soul mates. They were SOULMATES?!

**Author's Note:**

> I already wrote some chapters, so I plan to update once a week or once a fortnight.


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